


The Silence of the Mareep

by Smalls2233



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, M/M, Mystery, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-18 14:41:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28619712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smalls2233/pseuds/Smalls2233
Summary: But it was the Hoenn championship in ‘02 that really solidified the fact that yes, he and Scott were going to do the entire League together. The interviews that were everywhere where May talked about the friendship she formed with Brendan, the way that Wally pushed her to be better. She said that for the rest of time, the friendships she had formed would mean more to her than any championship title.He and Scott already had the world’s best friendship but the idea of strengthening their bond with some healthy competition and pokemon battles sounded incredible to him.----Stiles finally begins his journey as a pokemon trainer but when he meets Peter Hale he quickly realizes that he might have gotten in over his head
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 8
Kudos: 18





	The Silence of the Mareep

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to mockspeed for beta-ing this and workshopping this AU idea together with me!

It’s honestly incredible how heavy a small plastic card can feel. To Stiles, it was like the knowledge that he had to wait an entire damn week before he could start working on challenging the gyms in the region added twenty pounds to his wallet. Honestly, he would have been tempted to just feign sickness and skip out on class if the new gym leader in town hadn’t looked like he would have personally hunted him and Scott down if they did that.

“That’s Allison’s dad, right?” Stiles asked as they walked out of the gym. His hand felt like several of the bones had been crushed from the force of Chris’s handshake.

“Do you think he recognized me?” Scott asked, flashing concerned eyes at Stiles.

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know, Scott. Let’s think about how he just so conveniently had his Garchomp hanging out — the very Garchomp that has single handedly stopped god who knows how many trainers from getting to the Champion — as he was getting your League card and pokeballs ready.” Yes, Chris Argent recognized Scott as the same kid who, within the week of him and his daughter moving into town, tried to escape ass naked out the back door of their house when Chris came home earlier than expected.

Scott dragged his hands down his face and groaned. “He’s going to kill Steve.”

Steve was Scott’s Pikachu. Stiles did not know why Scott decided to give his partner the most boring, human name in the world. Every time he asked, Scott’s answer was always the same: “I don’t know, dude, look at him, he’s just a Steve.”

Yeah, it made no sense and Stiles had long since given up on understanding the thought process of his best friend. Like, not only did he give Steve the name of a middle aged accountant, he talked to him like he was one, too. Stiles wasn’t sure if he had ever heard Scott talk to Steve like he was just a little tiny baby with the cutest paws in the world. More than once, Stiles had been sneaking into Scott’s house and waiting because he thought Scott was talking to his mom about his plans for the weekend, but no, he was just talking to Steve.

“I’m pretty sure he would be fired if he did that in a match,” Stiles replied. He fidgeted with the pokeballs he had been given along with his League card, pressing the center button to turn the device from small and inactive to large and ready to be tossed at a pokemon over and over on repeat. “But I’m also pretty sure if we challenge him first he’ll kick the shit out of us.”

Yeah, as Chris was punching in the information into his laptop to get the League cards ready, he flat out said that if they were thinking of challenging him before they had at least six badges they weren’t gonna have a good time. Stiles didn’t know if that was because he was a hardass used to only battling the best of the best or if he was just so pissed that Scott, the guy sleeping with his daughter, had the gall to ask him to get set up for the region’s Pokemon League.

Maybe Stiles should have let Scott go alone during free period to get set up with his League card so he could have gone after school and be relatively untainted in Chris’s eyes. But, alas, Scott was his best friend and they had been planning on getting their League cards together since they were six.

It was watching the Johto championship battle way back in 2000 that made Stiles know he wanted to be a pokemon trainer. There was just something magical about the bond that Gold shared with his Typhlosion and the rest of his team that Stiles had never been able to shake. Maybe it was the complete trust that a professional trainer had with their team, or maybe it was just the idea of chasing the thrill of being the one that everyone’s eyes were on.

But it was the Hoenn championship in ‘02 that  _ really  _ solidified the fact that yes, he and Scott were going to do the entire League together. The interviews that were everywhere where May talked about the friendship she formed with Brendan, the way that Wally pushed her to be better. She said that for the rest of time, the friendships she had formed would mean more to her than any championship title.

He and Scott already had the world’s best friendship but the idea of strengthening their bond with some healthy competition and pokemon battles sounded incredible to him.

From six to eighteen, that’s how long it took until Stiles could finally pursue his dream. Hell, he still had about a month and a half until he could start to really get out there and be a professional trainer. As it was, he still had to graduate from high school, so his excursions were strictly limited to Friday night to Sunday evening.

That was a bit of a buzz kill, but Stiles was excited enough about the prospect of getting at least his first gym badge that he couldn’t be too disappointed.

Getting his first gym badge, and more importantly, catching a pokemon on his own for the first time. Because of laws set up to limit the impact of trainers on the ecosystem, people were strictly limited in the numbers of pokeballs they could buy. That, mixed with the fact that having more than one pokemon meant caring for — and more importantly, feeding — more than one pokemon, most people tended to just stick with their one partner pokemon.

For Scott, that was Steve the Pikachu. For Stiles, it was the Eevee he had gotten just a few short months before his mom got the frontotemporal dementia diagnosis. She had helped him name her, Nadzieja, hope in Polish. He called her Naughty.

Technically, if Stiles had wanted to, he could have had a second pokemon. There were a few non-trainers that had an entire team of pokemon; one of the computer science teachers at his school had an entire team of Machamp. But, again, the problem with having an entire team of pokemon, especially fully evolved pokemon like Machamp, came down to resources. He didn’t understand how it was possible to not only feed, but also knit sweaters for six massive creatures like that.

So he had been content with just having Naughty. It helped that his dad had an Arcanine named Rusty that liked to tussle and play with her. That and he and Scott were pretty much always hanging out growing up which meant that Naughty and Steve were best friends. No need to add another mouth to feed and pokemon to entertain if she got plenty of friend time with creatures he didn’t have to take care of.

But building a team for the League was different. Yeah, he was still going to have to take care of all of the pokemon, but they were taking part in the journey with him. It wasn’t going to be six Machamp in a townhouse, it was going to be him and his team in the wild, sleeping under the stars and eating cup ramen.

He couldn’t wait to start that journey.

——

Okay, so the outside kinda sucked. Well, it was more that the act of walking five miles through the wilderness, all the while knowing there’s a road like half a mile away that you’ve driven on countless times over the last few years, sucked. The rules of the League were that, unless you’ve officially been to a town and have a record of it in your League profile, you have to walk or bike there. No cars, no electric scooters, no segways, no flying pokemon, only you and your two feet. 

The concept of trekking through the wilderness really was something beautiful. The romanticized ideal of forging your path, finding natural beauty, catching a new friend for life? All amazing. The reality of walking straight uphill for a mile with an Eevee insisting that she needed to be carried in your hood and a backpack filled with shit? Yeah, not so beautiful. Like, why did video games not let him know that backpacks were heavy?

In  _ Skyrim _ they let him carry like two hundred blocks of cheese and be just fine. In  _ WoW _ he could carry as many Thunderfury, Blessed Blades of the Windseeker as he had room in his sacks and his Death Knight could still run around and do backflips. He wanted to have words with all of those developers who made him vastly overestimate his ability to carry shit on his back.

“Do you think I’d be allowed to borrow an Obstagoon or something to carry my shit for me?” Stiles asked, sitting down on a tree stump at the top of a particularly steep hill. “This sucks dude, I’m dying here.”

“We’re like a mile into the hike dude. I told you that you didn’t need to bring a frying pan.” Okay, fuck Scott. Sure, he needed to use his inhaler a couple of times as they scrambled up some of the worst parts of the hill, but all of the work he put into getting actually good at lacrosse had paid off. He was nowhere near as flustered and out of breath as Stiles was.

“Okay, first off, it’s a cast iron skillet, not a frying pan, secondly, if we didn’t have one, how would I cook us bacon and eggs for breakfast? Naughty  _ loves _ bacon,” Stiles replied and Naughty let out an affirmative chirp. He paused for a moment before adding, “Also, Stiles loves bacon.”

“Scott loves bacon too but Scott recognizes that cast iron skillets are heavy,” Scott replied.

“You’ll be thanking me for my genius plan of bringing along my skillet. Like, were you seriously just planning on living off of protein bars until you got to town?” He guzzled down some water and closed his eyes. How the hell was this supposed to be an easy path? He supposed the pokemon around weren’t chasing him down and supplexing him like they’d start doing as he got further into his journey, but holy shit climbing up hills was miserable.

“They taste good and they don’t add too much pack weight,” Scott said with a shrug. “Steve likes them too.”

Stiles opened his mouth to respond with something about how sometimes it’s better to add a little bit of pack weight if it meant actually getting the proper nutrition, but he saw something rustling in the distance that made him pause. “Holy shit,” he exclaimed and slapped Scott on the shoulder. “Dude, dude, look, in that bush, I think there’s a pokemon there.”

Yeah, there was absolutely a pokemon in that bush. Stiles could just barely see the edge of a fluffy, russet tail. He pulled Naughty out of his hood and held her inches from his face. “Are you ready?” He asked her in the same baby talk voice he always used with her, then he kissed her cute little nose.

Naughty sneezed in response.

“You’re gonna go in there and kick that pokemon’s ass because you’re the cutest most dangerous little baby in the world. Then, after you kick its ass, it’s gonna become your new best friend and you two are gonna get matching bandannas.” Stiles was already picturing them with matching Horde bandannas, maybe that would be his signature as a trainer. It would literally be the cutest thing in the world.

Naughty tried to bite his nose so Stiles laughed and set her down where she immediately ran into the bushes, making small yip sounds. Stiles was halfway afraid that she would scare the pokemon off, but instead it backed out of the bush and stared at her, baring its sharp, white teeth.

“Oh my god it’s a Nickit, I love them. Look at how fashionable he is, he’s rocking  _ guyliner _ . Scott, he’s like a little baby man, I’m literally about to die.” Once again, Stiles was slapping Scott’s shoulder in excitement. He was going to catch his first pokemon and it was going to be something adorable. He had been so nervous that the first pokemon he saw was going to be something like a Skwovet which were… not his favorite. 

“Naughty, use Quick Attack!” Stiles called out, bringing himself back to focus. He wanted to actually catch the Nickit without getting Naughty too hurt.

Naughty ran forward and swiped the Nickit across the snout, making him yowl in pain. The Nickit swiped back in turn but made the mistake of swiping at the thick ruff of fur on Naughty’s chest. The attack barely seemed to do any damage and served more to get the Nickit tangled up than anything. Naughty took advantage of that, barely needing any prompting from Stiles before she tackled the Nickit and sunk a deep bite into the side of his neck, making Stiles wince.

But that provided a pretty good opportunity actually and Stiles blindly reached into the side of his backpack for one of his pokeballs. He wasn’t sure if being tangled up in Eevee fluff would have the same sort of impact as being put asleep or getting paralyzed but he was hoping that maybe it would make the Nickit easier to catch.

Finally, he managed to grab one and pressed the center button, feeling the pokeball expand in his hand as it went online, ready to attempt to catch the Nickit. He didn’t waste any time before he lobbed it over and bonked the Nickit on the head with it.

Once, twice, and again the pokeball pulsed on the ground as the Nickit tried to break free. Stiles held his breath the entire time, praying that the Nickit wasn’t about to escape and run off into the forest. Even after it stopped pulsing and twitching, Stiles still stayed unmoving, afraid that the slightest touch would set the Nickit free.

After maybe a minute or two passed, Stiles stood up off the log and slowly approached the pokeball. He leaned down and picked it up as cautiously as he would a gun, but when it stayed sealed a grin stretched across his face and he turned over to face Scott.

“ _ Dude _ , holy shit,” Stiles exclaimed. “I caught a fucking pokemon!”

“You were awesome.” Scott stood up and Steve scurried over to inspect Naughty, making small chattering noises as he sniffed over her to make sure she was okay. “And Naughty did so well! You’d think she was like a professional or something! I guess she is now, but still! What are you gonna name the Nickit?”

Stiles pursed his lips and moved back over to the log, sitting down and grabbing an Argent Corp Potion from his bag before he pressed the center button on the pokeball again to free the Nickit.

The Nickit appeared on his lap and stared up at him, twitching an ear. A small amount of blood appeared in beads along the scratches and bites Naughty left on him. Stiles quickly sprayed a small amount of potion onto a cotton pad and began wiping away at them, watching as awe as the wounds disappeared before his eyes.

The Nickit yipped at him and then yawned, eyes scrunching closed for a few moments.

“That guyliner is so cute,  _ you’re _ so cute,” Stiles cooed and picked up the Nickit, hands resting along his ribs, just under his front legs so he could kiss the Nicket’s tiny nose. “You’re like a little rockstar aren’t you?

“And you’re a thief! A little nasty food thief! Cute little nasty criminal! I bet you’d steal a car if you could drive, wouldn’t you?” As Stiles was talking, the Nickit was desperately trying to lick his face.

Wait.

A car thief.

Rockstar.

“Scott I’ve found the perfect name for this baby boy. He’s Rockstar’s Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, Rockstar for short.”

Scott stared at him, eyebrows scrunched up. “Uh, that sure is a thing you could name him.”

“Dude, it’s perfect, he’s a little nasty thief man  _ and _ he’s got the fashion of a rockstar. Aren't you just so fashionable, Rockstar?” Stiles was still baby talking and Rockstar was fully licking his nose and cheeks by that point. He seemed to approve of the name based on the way his tail was wagging.

“Naughty and Rockstar, what a duo.” Scott reached over to scratch Rockstar’s head between his two massive ears. “Dude, we gotta find me a pokemon now.”

——

Scott really had no room to critique Stiles’ honestly quite amazing naming system. At least, not when hours later, when they were on the outskirts of town and setting up camp as the sun was setting, he managed to catch a Pidgey and named it Greg.

“So… how do you know if a Pidgey is male or female?” Stiles asked slowly as Scott let the soon-to-be-Greg Pidgey out of its pokeball. It wasn’t like they could flip it over and just see if it had the nasty type of pokeballs hanging down. There was like actual science and biology and general knowledge of bird pokemon junk that Stiles didn’t have but he needed to figure out its sex. 

“I don’t know actually,” Scott replied with a frown. He scratched underneath Greg’s chin and it let out a happy chirp. “Prof Deaton hasn’t exactly gone through a step by step with me on sexing Pidgeys.”

Scott and Stiles both paused to laugh at that.

“But… hm, you know, I think it’s a Greg.”

“Greg.” Jesus Christ so first there was Steve the middle aged accountant Pikachu and now Greg the balding database administrator Pidgey. 

“Yeah, look at it, everything about it screams Greg!” Scott grinned down at Greg as he spoke and kept giving it little skritches. Stiles was envious of his ability to speak utter nonsense with incredible levels of confidence. Then, in the same voice he’d use if he were talking to Stiles, Scott asked Greg, “You like being called Greg, right?”

Yeah, so, when they went to the PokeCenter in town the next day, they found out that Greg was actually a girl. Still, in spite of that revelation, Scott stood by his decision of naming her Greg.

Sometimes Stiles just didn’t understand that boy at all.

——

Saturday passed in a blur of training. 

Stiles knew that with the pokemon he had, he was going to struggle to beat Deucalion without a solid strategy. Normal and Dark type pokemon tended to get slam jammed by Fighting types and Stiles wasn’t going to be able to catch any more pokemon himself until he got his first badge.

So he needed to be smart. Most beginner trainers went for damage, damage, and more damage but his two cute little babies were going to get wrecked if he went with that. There was no out-damaging a Mienfoo when only one of your pokemon (Rockstar) knew an attack that would be super effective (Play Rough). Well, there was a way to do that, he just needed to lower the attack and defense of Deucalion’s team enough in order to claw his way through.

Yeah, it was a good plan for what he had to work with. He was getting pretty good at executing it too. There were a few other trainers hanging out in the area that Stiles challenged and he managed to kick their asses. It felt pretty damn great.

Though, as loathe as he was to admit it, he might have overdone the training. It was a bad habit of his; if he got his mind set on anything like research or training he would go until he either mentally or physically couldn’t. He couldn’t even begin to count the number of times he accidentally stayed up for two days straight because of some stupid thing he hyperfocused on.

So, all that’s to say that Stiles accidentally stayed up all night. Well, not all night, he got like two hours of sleep while Naughty and Rockstar napped. That wasn’t exactly a good amount of sleep, but he remembered to bring his Adderall with him, so as Scott woke up on Sunday morning he just shook like three pills into his hand and dry swallowed them.

“Did you get any sleep at all last night?” Scott asked as he crawled out of his sleeping bag and rubbed at his eyes. He yawned loudly, an action Steve mimicked, and stretched. “You look exhausted man.”

Stiles shrugged. “I’ll be fine, it’s not like the first badge is that hard to get anyway.”

Scott looked dubious. “If you say so,” he said, scratching his jaw. “I’m gonna brush my teeth and get ready to head into town. Maybe in like an hour we go challenge the gym?”

Shit. He really would have liked more time than that to prepare. But at this point, was there really any benefit to gain from doing more training? Like, if he and his pokemon weren’t ready now, they probably would never be. He just had to trust that his plan would work. It was a solid strategy to overcome the weaknesses his team had, it would have to work.

It was actually such a damn good plan. There was no way it wouldn’t work out. 

——

Yeah, so, the plan didn’t work.

There were a few things that went wrong. First off, he got cocky. The gym trainers for Deucalion’s gym were two of his classmates. He wouldn’t exactly have called them friends but they were in his group of friends. Ethan and Aiden, twins who worked part time for Deucalion since he was an old friend of their family.

Stiles managed to get through them easily. He didn’t want to make his strategy known to Deucalion so he decided to bite back his distaste and just have Rockstar use Play Rough and Naughty throw a Helping Hand until their Sawk and Throh were down for the count. It was stupidly easy thanks to him over preparing the previous night.

Another thing that factored into his cockiness was how easily Scott cleared the gym. Stiles didn’t get to watch the battle, unfortunately he had to wait in the lobby while Scott went through, but he was in there for maybe half an hour before he came out, beaming.

“Greg was awesome!” Scott exclaimed. He was cradling a very pleased Steve in his arms while Greg sat on his shoulder, chirping. “You should have seen her, she was untouchable. I think she might be a special Pidgey.”

“Nice!” Stiles walked over and stroked along Greg’s back. “You think they’ll put the video online? I’m pissed that I wasn’t allowed to watch.”

“Yeah, Deuc said that clips from victories get put on their YouTube channel within the week.” Scott paused as Steve scrambled out of his arms and over to Stiles. “You should beat him no problem.”

So getting cocky was his first problem. His second was that Adderall wasn’t a cure for getting basically no sleep and it basically made him jittery more than it made him awake.

The third problem was that he couldn’t take the battle seriously. As it turned out, Deucalion liked to give speeches before battles. Over-dramatic speeches. Like, it was hard for Stiles to keep a straight face at the level of drama the man was spewing.

“It’s surprising that you and your friend decided to take on my gym first,” he began in a quiet tone. Stiles hadn’t realized the dude was from Galar, when he had been watching videos of the gyms to prepare for the challenge. So that was a surprise that made Stiles have to bite back a laugh.

Look, there were enough jokes about people from Galar online that Deucalion having the gall to be from there was just fucking funny to Stiles. Maybe that was the sleep deprivation talking, but he really wanted to ask him what the day after Monday was called.

By the time he managed to tune back into Deucalion’s speech, it wasn’t much easier to take him seriously. Somehow things had escalated in the thirty seconds Stiles spent trying not to laugh. 

“Many League challenges have stopped with me. Even for your first badge, I won’t let this be an easy match.” Yeah, Stiles didn’t think Deucalion was aware that Chris Argent was one of the leaders now and legitimately seemed like he’d toss the team he used for Elite Four battles out if Stiles tried to get his first badge from him. 

“Before I came here, I was a leader in the Galar region. I’ve been doing this for close to twenty years and I can’t tell you how many trainers whose dreams I’ve crushed. To them, I am  _ death _ , destroyer of  _ worlds! _ ”

Stiles fully lost it then. He couldn’t help it, first the man was from Galar and now he was quoting the whole atomic bomb creation regret speech but making it about pokemon battles. Like, Deucalion was so unassuming and soft looking but he was out here acting like he was the fucking black knight. 

Like, goddamn dude, he had to be crazy into the whole BDSM scene with his whole ‘oh ho ho I’m the biggest baddest guy in the region’ thing. So naturally, Stiles got sidetracked into wondering if Deucalion was the type of guy who called his subs slaves and wanted to be called master, or maybe he was just one of the sir guys. Holy shit, maybe he was a daddy dom, that would be fucking hysterical. But Stiles’ money was on the master side of things, if any of the leaders was a daddy dom it would be Chris Argent.

He was halfway through a thought about how he didn’t really have a daddy kink but Chris was pretty hot so maybe he’d put up with that for him when he realized that the battle had started like a minute and a half ago and Deucalion’s Mienfoo was kicking Naughty’s ass.

“Oh  _ shit _ ,” Stiles swore. 

Naughty was trying her best, bless her heart, but Stiles had totally let her down. All of her Tail Whips and Agilities didn’t do much when Stiles wasn’t paying enough attention to swap her out for Rockstar at the right time.

In a panicked move, Stiles quickly brought her back to her pokeball and sent out Rockstar. He was hoping he could salvage the fight, maybe get lucky and get the Mienfoo out of commission. Like, Rockstar and Naughty were absolutely at higher levels than Deucalion’s team, he had made sure of that the previous night.

Unfortunately, when it came down to levels versus type effectiveness, the sheer physical damage that super effective fighting moves did won out. In a single move, despite all of their preparation, Rockstar was knocked out. Naughty followed suit in quick succession, already weakened from Stiles’ earlier distracted state.

Deucalion pursed his lips and shook his head. “I can see that you had an interesting strategy going, but you need to work on your focus.”

Ugh.

“Says you and every single teacher I’ve ever had before in my life,” Stiles grumbled.  _ Fuck _ man, how could he have screwed this up so badly? Ethan and Aiden had been so easy to beat but he didn’t even last five minutes against Deucalion.

“I think what you might benefit from is trying to focus on something simpler to begin with. Lowering stats is a good plan but it’s not as effective at this level of battle.” Deucalion walked forward and placed a hand on Stiles shoulder as he began to lead him towards the entrance of the gym. “The rules of the League for the most part only let a trainer have two pokemon for their first gym, but you’re going to struggle against me if you have a team that doesn’t handle fighting types well.”

“That was the entire point of the over leveling and the stat manipulation.”

“Mm, still, if you want to catch a third pokemon, provided you only use two in the battle, I wouldn’t raise a fuss over it,” Deucalion replied. He paused briefly and his eyes flicked to the side, looking behind Stiles.

Stiles followed Deucalion’s gaze to see a man standing by the door. His skin was mottled with scars, half of his face was particularly bad and Stiles wondered if he could even see out of his right eye. Next to him floated a Lampent.

Not ominous at all. 

“I hate to be rude but can you give me a moment?” Deucalion asked. Stiles inspected his face as he spoke and there was a twinge of concern on it. “He’s an old friend that I haven’t seen for some time.”

“Yeah, that’s fine.” There was something going on. Nobody looked that worried and would interrupt their job just for a college friend.

Stiles wasn’t exactly great at being subtle when he was nosing around. More times than he could count, he had been caught by his dad for snooping around a crime scene growing up. But he at least could try and listen in a bit to the hushed conversation that Deucalion was having with the scarred man.

They spoke quietly enough that Stiles struggled to hear them but he managed to make out a few words.  _ Kate, virus, fire, attacks, Morell _ , they meant nothing to him but Deucalion seemed more and more concerned the longer the scarred man spoke.

“I’ll get in touch with Ennis and Kali to see if they know anything. Can you stop by the gym later tonight and we can discuss this with them?” Deucalion said quietly. 

Fuck, if it weren’t a school night Stiles would absolutely stick around to spy on whatever secret meeting these guys were having. This sounded suspicious as hell and he only heard a quarter of the conversation.

“Sorry about that.” Deucalion walked over with poorly concealed concern on his face. He didn’t seem focused on his battle with Stiles at all. So whatever he was talking about with the scarred man was a big deal.

“What was I saying? More pokemon for your team, right. Give yourself a week to get another pokemon and train it up and you’re welcome to come challenge me again.”

“Yeah, sure,” Stiles said slowly. He accepted a couple of pokeballs from Deucalion. “Everything okay?”

“Oh, nothing to worry about. Do you have a ride back down to Beacon Hills though? Apparently there have been some reports of wild pokemon attacking trainers north of here.” Deucalion was not so subtly looking at the scarred man. Holy shit was he part of one of the teams? He looked scary enough and every scary evil gang leader needed a Galarian man by his side.

“Scott and I were just gonna walk back down tonight,” Stiles replied.

“Hm, if you can call a friend to pick you up that might be best.”

“If he needs a ride, I have some business down in Beacon Hills I need to take care of,” the scarred man spoke up and began walking towards them.

“Uh, no offense but I tend not to hitch rides with strangers,” Stiles said. “My dad’s the sheriff so I’ve been raised on lessons about murdered hitchhikers.”

The man laughed. “Stranger danger, huh? Deuc can vouch for me. Peter Hale.”

Why did that name sound so familiar? It was on the top of Stiles' tongue.

“He’s a good man, if a bit irritating,” Deucalion said. Idly, he scratched at his jaw. “He used to run the dark type gym up in Beacon Valley.”

“Oh, you’re the dude who was in that electrical fire a few years ba—” Stiles cut himself off with a wince. “Shit, sorry, that’s rude.”

“Yes, that would be me.” Peter placed his hand on Stiles’ shoulder and squeezed just a little bit too hard. “So, I’ll give you a ride home and give you a lesson on why your strategy today was the most profoundly embarrassing thing I’ve ever seen.”

**Author's Note:**

> This all happened because I got bored and decided to draw TW characters with pokemon. You can find that [here](https://smalls2233.tumblr.com/post/637780740147396608/a-compilation-of-teen-wolf-characters-as-pok%C3%A9mon)


End file.
